Alternate Lives: Phoenix Guardians
by KingCobra582
Summary: Thanks to a mysterious figure and a familiar face from their past, can it be that the clans' lives are about to end? (ANGST, VIOLENCE, BROOK & LEX SLASH, LANGUAGE.) Please R&R.


Alternate Lives, Part 2: Phoenix Guardians  
  
By King Cobra3   
  
WARNING: Since this fic has language, and violence, it is thus rated PG-13. The fic is also dosed in its' fair share of angst, and is occasionally OOC, though I did my best to keep them in character. Anyone who doesn't want to see any of the pre-described elements should turn away now.  
  
PAIRING: Brooklyn/Lex.  
  
RATED: PG.  
  
DISCLAIMER: The show's characters aren't mine, but the new ones are. Don't steal.  
  
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I edited out the graphic stuff to make this more appropriate for Fanfiction.net's standards. As a result, this fic will be shorter and probably a lot crappier. There is still some implied sex, but nothing really graphic. If you want to read the unedited version with the sexual scenes intact, check it out at the Gargoyles Fan Website, or at adultfanfiction.net. Just so you know.  
  
"It was forged in a dark age long, long ago. Operating out of time itself, The identities of its' creators lost since lost, buried in the sands of time. In the centuries that followed, the artifact accomplished its' duties hundreds of times. Now, in the 21st century, the next chapter to its' unknown saga, the unspoken legacy, is about to be written, all of the secrets about to be revealed. To everyone, human, demon, or otherwise, that it appeared to, this magical item goes by only one name.  
  
The Phoenix Gate..."  
  
AVALON, 250,000,000 YEARS AGO (OUR TIME):  
  
"It has been done, Lord Orius. The device you inquired our services to create has been completed." The cloaked shadow hissed beneath the' hood, its' voice rough, throaty, as though it had swallowed some gravel and the rocks had been stuck in its' throat.   
  
The figure's hand reached into his dark' robe, withdrawing something from a pocket somewhere within, and emerged seconds later, holding a small silver and gold, crest shaped, object. The thing itself was beautiful to look at, its shine bright enough to burn the retina of anyone who stared at the thing for too long, its' very beauty akin to the sun itself. This was to be expected, though. New metallic items, especially if they were filled with magic, always shone brightly their first time in the exposure of the outdoors.  
  
Orius took the object and inspected it, a smile forming on his blue-toned face, before looking up at the group of monk-like figures, all of whom stood before him silently. "Thank you, Niko. You may go now."  
  
Niko turned to leave, his companions joining him, when Orius stopped him. "Niko?"  
  
The monk turned.  
  
"This device will need guardians to watch over it, protect it from harm, for all of eternity. That task will fall to you and your companions, my trusted friend."  
  
"Yes, my lord. It will be done as you have commanded."  
  
Orius nodded, thoroughly pleased. "Until next time, then."  
  
Niko bowed, before turning away and fading into the darkness silently.  
  
Orius looked at the item he was still holding, and smile again. "My beautiful object. My lovely artifact. " The Avalon ruler paused for a second, thinking, then spoke again. "My... Phoenix Gate..."  
  
MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, SEPTEMBER 2003 A.D.:  
  
The moon shone down, illuminating the large metropolitan city below, bathing the township of Manhattan in its yellowed light. It was a normal night for the citizens of this crime-ridden environment for, as usual, the crime rate was high and random people were victimized. Almost no one was in peace right now.  
  
Almost.  
  
Lying in the bed, staring at the pitch black of their shared bedroom, Brooklyn was lost in thought, the snores of his smaller mate lying next to him, falling on deaf ears. The red gargoyle sighed, his muscular chest rising and sinking like a raft floating along a river as he did so.  
  
It had a busy night for the clan. Goliath had ordered another round of patrolling even though that was all that they had been doing every night for the past three nights. So, after patrolling this evening and finding some major action, Brooklyn and Lex, upon returning to the castle, had decided not to wait for the sun, opting instead to retire to the bed in their "mating room" for a little rest.   
  
"Des La Grate Muri Tempi Et Intervalia!"  
  
Despite the warmth of his bed, the youth shivered visibly beneath the covers. Not because it was cold, which it wasn't, as it was perfectly warm. But because of the old memories plaguing his thoughts. It was just that even now, two years after what had happened, Brooklyn could not shake the recollection of it all. Could not forget Kojak.   
  
Kojak, his grandson from the future.   
  
Kojak, who had died a hero's death to stop Demona's plan from succeeding.  
  
In his mind, even after two years, Brooklyn could still remember every minor detail of what had went down. Kojak had shown up in present day Manhattan, stolen the Phoenix Gate and had kidnapped Brooklyn and his mate, bringing them a long way into the future. It had quickly become apparent that despite the great time that had passed on Earth, Demona still hadn't changed in Kojak's timeline, making a clone of the long dead (in that time anyway) Angela, and plotting with Kojak against the gargoyles. However, in the end, Kojak had stabbed Demona in the back, due to the death of his adopted mother, Alexia, at the evil female's hands, saving his grandfather and Lex with the Phoenix Gate.  
  
Brooklyn and Lex had survived. Kojak had not.  
  
But Demona?   
  
Brooklyn had no idea. He didn't even know if the future that Kojak had shown him had been the definite future or just one possibility in a large batch of futures. If it was the one and only future that he had seen, a future that had involved the death of the rest of his clan, then perhaps it could be averted. But how to do so? How would one set about changing a future that might not even ever happen?  
  
"Hey, what's going on?"  
  
Brooklyn looked at Lex, startled. His tossing and turning had awakened the bald youth, who was now fully awake, yawning as he stretched, Lex's taut muscles rippling beneath the green flesh as he did so.  
  
"Nothing, Lex. Just go back to sleep."  
  
Ignoring Brooklyn's request, Lex wrapped his arms around his mate's waist soothingly. "Deep thoughts? You look troubled."  
  
"Nothing important."  
  
"For not thinking of anything important, you sure look awfully serious."  
  
Brooklyn paused. "I've..." What to say besides the truth? "...been having trouble sleeping."  
  
His mate smiled, that lustful smirk on his face. "So... since you can't sleep, what do you say we have a little..." Lex's grin twisted devilishly. "...Exercise?"  
  
Brooklyn caught the meaningful glint in his boyfriend's eyes and, pushing away all troubling inner questions for the time being, grinned wickedly, flopping onto his back in the bed. "If you want."  
  
CASTLE KITCHEN, SAME TIME:  
  
The Xanatoses had been fixing dinner when they heard a loud, but faint, series of roars. David looked at his wife.  
  
"Now what do you suppose that was?"  
  
PARAPETS, ALSO SAME TIME:  
  
The clan, minus Brook and Lex, had been staring out at the city watching the humans below out of boredom when they too heard the sounds of passionate roaring. Angela was perplexed.  
  
"Father?"  
  
"I do not know, Angela."  
  
Broadway headed towards the inner castle. He had a few ideas what that roaring was, but what if he was wrong? Better safe then sorry, right? "I'll go check it out."  
  
CASTLE HALLWAY, TWO MINUTES LATER:  
  
Goliath found Broadway turning the corner, the large Aqua youth headed to the kitchen. Probably to find a snack. Or two. Or three. Or four.  
  
What a surprise.  
  
"Did you find out what that was?" Goliath rumbled, pointedly ignoring Broadway's potential eating fetish. The Aqua gargoyle hesitated for a second. Should he tell him what he had seen in the lovers' room? Probably. Goliath already knew how close the two were, but it wasn't any of his business. Broadway shouldn't even have found out what they had been doing, but by dumb luck he had. Should Broadway spill the beans about what he had caught the two males doing? Goliath had probably already figured it out by now anyways.  
  
'Oh, damn it, Broadway, just say something already! Tell him you don't know what it was!!'  
  
"Yeah, I did." What?! Why did he say THAT?! Broadway cursed himself inwardly. 'YOU IDIOT!'  
  
"And?"  
  
"And what?"  
  
For one brief, shining moment, Goliath had to restrain himself from berating the younger male. "Was it what I think it was?"  
  
"Yeah." No point in lying now.  
  
"Lex and Brooklyn?" Goliath looked confused. "But what could they have been doing to roar like that?"  
  
"..."  
  
It sank in almost at once, and Goliath felt sheepish. "Ah. I see." So he had been right after all. That was satisfying, in an odd sort of way, given the circumstances of the evening.  
  
"Yeah."  
  
CAIRO, EGYPT, 1986 A.D.:  
  
The harsh wind blew, sending sand sweeping across the landscape, that devastating heat blazing throughout the desert. There was no one and nothing around. No buildings, no water, no life whatsoever.   
  
Except for one.  
  
The tall black gargoyle stumbled across the dunes, his mouth and his throat dry, gasping for salvation, his muscular but not too beefy body crying out for water. Sweat ran down his golden hair, dropping down from his scalp onto his shoulder blades and sliding down his back and torso. His red-colored wings, as well as his gray loincloth, were wet with perspiration, and it seemed that escape from this horrifying purgatory was impossible.   
  
'Water... Please... God... Allah... whoever, quench my thirst, I beg of you... please...'  
  
But no water would come, of course. The gargoyle's pleas were only an illogical desire from his fevered brain. No rain had fallen in this dry land for nearly 200 years.  
  
It had been a hard time lately for the handsome male gargoyle. His clan had been driven out of Israel by the paranoia of humans, the fears of men, all of whom had not known what they had wanted. Too afraid to befriend or accept them.   
  
So the Gargoyles had left, for fear of being smashed in their stone sleep. They had come to Egypt, seeking a better life. But whom had they been fooling? No one, it seemed. Because the Egyptians had treated them the very same way. With fear, hatred, and hostility. With no other alternatives, the clan had decided to brave the dangers of the desert, in search of a better home. But this year, the area was at its' most harsh.   
  
The scorching waves of the orange sun had beat down upon them without mercy, drying out their bodies. Stone sleep hadn't helped at all, not in this climate, not in the exposure of the heat. They had all, including his loving mate Arlon, perished horribly, suffering exhaustion, and succumbing to the dry temperatures.  
  
Until there had only been one gargoyle left.  
  
Ardath pressed on, all hopes of being saved never exiting his subconscious. There HAD to be a way out somewhere, and until he found it, he had to keep going for as far as he possible could. Ardath's only other option was to just give up and let the desert claim one more victim, but the gargoyle was not willing to do that. He was still young, with a long life planned ahead. He was not willing to give up on all his dreams - and his life - now.   
  
Determination to survive. That was his driving force. It was what kept Ardath going. Being the last of his deceased clan, the gargoyle knew that it was up to him to start anew, to re-establish the sanctuary of a new clan, somehow, and he silently vowed to do so.  
  
So it was imperative that he had to live through this. His death was not an option.  
  
Ardath stumbled onwards; refusing to accept the fact that rescue was impossible, thinking about Arlon. Arlon had been the clan's leader and Ardath, as Arlon's mate, had also been his second. Now he was gone; they all were.   
  
Bitter, Ardath chuckled under his breath. What would he do now? Where would he turn now that everything and everyone he had ever loved had all been ripped away? With Arlon, as well as the clan, all gone, there was only one other gargoyle Ardath could depend on now. Himself.  
  
If he kept walking, if he refused to give in to the climate, then the Gargoyle believed with his heart that he would find salvation. He HAD to.  
  
'Say the words.'  
  
Ardath's head snapped up, startled. Where the hell did that voice come from? And why did it tell him to "say the words"? And while he was thinking about it, what the hell were the words he was supposed to say, anyway? This was beyond strange.  
  
'Des La Grate Muri Tempi Et Intervalia.'  
  
There it was again. What the hell was going on here? Was somebody playing tricks on him?   
  
"Okay, if somebody's screwing with me, just get out here now before I find you and pummel your ass!"  
  
Almost as soon as he'd said it, the gargoyle felt sheepish. He was surrounded by sand and only sand. There were no trees or buildings for anyone to hide behind. There weren't even any dunes! And even if there had, there'd be no way for anyone to be talking to him inside of his head! Ardath did not believe in mental telepathy.  
  
'SAY THE WORDS NOW!!!'  
  
The male suddenly screamed, the force of the words ramming an intense migraine into his skull, his head feeling like it was being cut in two, and causing the gargoyle to drop to his knees in pain, pressing a palm to his forehead and clenching his eyes closed. SHIT! That had hurt like hell! He bellowed his agony to the humid desert sky.  
  
After a few seconds, once the pain had mostly subsided, Ardath got to his feet shakily, trembling slightly. The so-called telepathic message had made his state of health even worse then it already had been, but how was all of this even possible? Maybe he was imaging all of this. Maybe he was just incoherent nutcase, locked up in a dungeon somewhere, with only the rats to keep his psychotic self company.   
  
He should go ahead and say it, in case the voice and the headache comes back.  
  
Licking his dry lips, Ardath gazed at the barren landscape before him and spoke.  
  
"Des La Grate Muri Tempi Et Intervalia."   
  
Wait a second. What was that roaring sound? Ardath looked skyward, his eyes combing the dark night sky. Was it a plane or some other sort of aircraft? If there was, it was hidden above the clouds or somewhere, because he could see no lights.   
  
Then, quite suddenly, the ball of fire suddenly appeared out of nowhere, ensnaring the gargoyle in the belly of flames. Ardath panicked for a second, but then quickly realized that, amazingly enough, he was still fine. Not burning. Not on fire. But in one piece as though there was nothing here. How bizarre. He MUST be crazy, after all. This couldn't be real.  
  
Then, just as fast as he had saw the desert through the eyes of non-scorching flame, he suddenly found himself in a new surrounding, that fire still around him and then, dissipating.   
  
MANHATTAN, NEW YORK, DAWN, 2003:  
  
What was this odd new world, with its' bright lights and buildings so tall they seemed to touch the sky? It was incredible, even too incredible to be the delusions of a mad gargoyle. With that thought, Ardath realized that he wasn't crazy, after all. This WAS real.  
  
What Ardath hadn't thought about was that if anyone else had been in the desert to see what had transpired, they would've told others about the strange ball of fire that had enveloped a black-skinned, blonde-haired gargoyle.   
  
And that then it had promptly disappeared, taking the gargoyle with it.  
  
CASTLE WYVERN, DAWN:  
  
With the exception of two of their own, the clan gathered on the parapets, awaiting the nearing sunrise. Once the blazing sun rose, they would turn from flesh to stone in the matter of seconds and remain that way for the next several hours. Just like they always did during the daytime.  
  
"Where are they?" Goliath grumbled beneath his breath, scowling in displeasure as he got into his thinker's pose. "No matter what their current activities are, they should be here with the rest of us!" The clan's leader growled inwardly, his worry over the two stemming into a physical altercation of his true emotions, fooling the rest of the gargoyles into mistaking his concern for pure rage.  
  
"Relax, laddie. They'll be safe during sleep, inside da castle er out."  
  
Goliath's glare was the only answer Hudson received, and the old one flinched back, pointedly keeping his eyes off his friend's glowering face. Goliath was annoyed enough about their absence as it was. Why make him any angrier?   
  
"Hey, do we still have time?"  
  
Everyone turned to look at Brooklyn, who pulled his hand out of Lex's in order to get up upon his roost, Lex doing the same right next to him, both lovers linking hands again as they assumed sleeping positions. It had been a really close call, both him and Lex awakening from their... bout, earlier, with only mere seconds to spare the coming of the rising sun. Brooklyn had awakened, his sleepy eyes catching sight of the clock resting on the wall, to the right of the door, and he had awakened his mate, both of them scrambling. Thankfully, they had made it in time. Goliath would've been pissed if they hadn't. Though, he already was, so they hadn't made it in time to avoid his fury.  
  
"You always cut it too close." Goliath rumbled, earning a quick smirk from Brooklyn and a quick "sorry" just as the sun rose. Assuming his position, the red gargoyle looked at his lover.   
  
"Until tonight, my love?"  
  
Lex grinned. "Until then." They squeezed each other's hand, looking away, each facing the rising sun, but still looking at each other out of the corner of their eyes, a small smile on their faces.  
  
Which remained even as their skin hardened and crackled and became stone.  
  
MANHATTAN, SAME TIME:  
  
He walked around, completely perplexed by the sights that surrounded him. This was a strange new world, full of tall buildings and glass and stone, the city lights illuminating the darkened evening sky. What was this? One second he was in the desert, than he was in a Metropolis? What the hell was going on? This was bizarre.  
  
Oh, well. Things could be worse. At least, the dry heat was over. But where exactly was he? And, why, despite the fact that he was a gargoyle, wasn't any of the humans he had been walking past even look at him, much less break out into acts of hostility? Why were they all so indifferent to him?  
  
Then again, maybe he shouldn't be so taken aback. This strange place was definitely better then where he had been, after all.   
  
'Seek the clan out.'  
  
Huh? What clan? Ardath looked around, at all the skyscrapers and the hordes of humans, the citizens on this odd new world, most of whom were completely oblivious to his presence. There was a clan here somewhere? There must be, for the voice had ordered him to find them. But where could a clan of gargoyles hide out in a world infested with humans without being discovered? Ardath knew humans. If there was a clan here, the humans would all be screaming and panicking and just generally carrying on like they had in Egypt.   
  
But there was no anxiety here, no fear. All the humans seemed oddly calm, despite the fact that there seemed to be 'demons' here. Instead of getting upset, the humans were strangely dismissive of the fact that there was a gargoyle amongst them.  
  
"Saurekraut! Katsup! Chili! Dozens of toppings for my delicious hot dogs! Only $1.50 per dog! Come and get 'em!"  
  
"...So THEN I talked to Terry, and asked her if Ward had been cheating on me and she said..."  
  
"...Damn cigarette ads. They're the thorn in every good smoker's side..."  
  
"...Oh, good going, Brendan. Leave the keys in the car..."  
  
"...Let it drop, Margot..."  
  
Ardath looked around, baffled. Why was no one even noticing him??  
  
'In this time period, these people have no fear of you.'  
  
This was getting old fast. The odd voice, whoever, whatever it was, was starting to annoy him very quickly. Ardath's eyes scanned the buildings, and the sky, furiously looking for anyone who might be staring at, and talking to, him. But there was no one. No one even looking at him, anyways.  
  
'You will never see me, but I can see you always.'  
  
"Who ARE you?! Why are you haunting me?! Stop talking to me! Stop angering me!!" Ardath screamed his annoyance out loud, not caring that some of the pedestrians stopped and looked at him. "SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!!! JUST FUCK OFF AND LEAVE ME ALONE!!!"  
  
He opened his eyes a few seconds later, the anger draining from his body, realizing that the humans were staring at him, expressing their pity.   
  
'They do not fear you.'  
  
"Yeah, I got that already. Thanks." Ardath spoke to the mysterious voice, in a calmer manner, but with sarcasm, the tone of it dripping in his voice. "Why aren't I stone?"  
  
'I have protected you from such matters.'  
  
"How can you..."  
  
'Do not speak. Just listen.'  
  
Ardath, feeling skeptical, crossed his arms over his chest. "This ought to be good."  
  
'You have a calling, Ardath of Israel. There is a gargoyle here whom goes by the name of Brooklyn. You must seek him out. If you do not, then this world, and everything you know and cherish, will be destroyed. Only making an allegiance to his clan will save you and everyone else.'  
  
"Oh, yeah? Is there something coming?"  
  
'Evil. Pure, untainted, unreasonable. You and Brooklyn will be the key to salvation.'  
  
The coal-skinned gargoyle snickered. "Somebody's got a few screws loose."  
  
'DO IT!!!'  
  
Ardath screamed again, in even greater agony then before, dropping to his knees on the concrete sidewalk. His head felt like it would explode at any second. That it was being wrenched apart. "Okay! Okay!" The pain subsided almost at once, and the gargoyle panted, wiping the blood away from his nose with the back of his right hand.  
  
'Never forget the pain, Ardath. It will be a part of you always.'  
  
"You can say that again."  
  
Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, an image flashed before his eyes. An unwarranted vision of a gargoyle. The male was strong, but not heavy, and tall, with messy white-hair atop his head behind the two horns, both of which swept backwards. He had a large beak-like protrusion on his face, and his flesh was the color of a brick. His wings were black on the outside surface, and red on the opposite side.  
  
"Is... this Brooklyn...?"  
  
'Yes.'  
  
"Great. You've shown me who I should find. Now can you please go?"  
  
'As you wish.'  
  
"Thank you."  
  
What humans had been staring at him like a lunatic now took this moment to turn away, the moment already forgotten, all of them fixated on their own affairs. Why pay attention to a deranged Gargoyle who seemingly heard a voice and talked to it? They ignored him again, and Ardath was actually glad about that.   
  
His relief was short-lived, however, when a human woman, dressed in a red suit jacket, and skirt, approached him. Shorter then him, but adequately shaped, as though she had spent her entire life in some great battle, her skin lovely as a fresh batch of peaches, grown under the warm sun of the summer, her hair as red as cherries. To say she had great beauty was an understatement. Ardath suddenly felt his heart pounding, and, ashamed of himself, tried to think other thoughts. So the human was lovely, so what? She was still just a human, a member of a species which had never stopped persecuting him and his clan. She was nothing to Ardath.  
  
But his unspoken musings did not stop the female from walking up and smiling, ever coyly, at him.   
  
Ardath snarled at this stranger, who did not seem the tiniest bit intimidated. "What the hell do you want?"  
  
"To talk."  
  
Despite his stinging pain, which still remained, and his anger, Ardath's curiosity was piqued. "About what?"  
  
"About you."  
  
"What about me?!"  
  
The human woman smiled again. What was that glint in her eyes? "About why you interest me."   
  
Ardath snickered again. Something about this woman's persistence was... intriguing, somehow. Damned if he knew why, though. The only thing that Ardath was aware of right this second was that there was something about her. "I've got something to do. Leave me alone."  
  
The woman nodded, something about her eyes still triggering an uneasiness in the gargoyle's soul, and pulled a card from the pocket of her velvet jacket, handing it to Ardath, who took it without a word, staring at the card, quizzical. "If you change your mind, or if you just want to talk, call me. My number's on the card." She then turned away, but her eyes were trained over her should, at him. "Ciao." The mysterious woman vanished into the crowd.  
  
After she was gone, Ardath looked down at the card she had given him. It was white, with a blue stripe at the top, the words "Nightstone Unlimited" in the blue streak, and below that, in the white portion of the card, beneath the address of the place, was a name and phone number. Ardath memorized the number, just in case he decided to dial it later. He hated to admit it to himself, but there was something... strong, about this particular human, and some part of him was intrigued.   
  
Once the phone number was safely stored, Ardath glanced up at the name.   
  
It read "Dominique Destine ".  
  
"GET THE MONSTER!!!"  
  
Startled, Ardath looked up. From the alley on his right side, a group of men in strange blue clothing, all of them wielding an odd-looking hammer, rushed towards him.  
  
The gargoyle blanked for a second. Who were these people? What did they want with him? Surely, they weren't attacking him. Why would they? After all, the voice had said that no one feared him in this time period.  
  
Then the one nearest to him swung the hammer, its' end sparkling with electrical energy, and Ardath, realizing he WAS under attack after all, after quickly slipping the card into his belt, narrowly dodged the weapon, the blunt end of it missing his skull by a less then an inch. Once he was briefly out of harm's way, Ardath's rage overcame him, his eyes flashing neon. After fleeing into the desert where his clan and his mate had died, then being taken from the desert into a strange city without warning, and then besieged by a strange voice, now he was being attacked by these angry humans for no apparent reason and THIS WAS THE LAST STRAW!!!  
  
The youth roared, his eyes glowing. He had been having a bad, bad day, and these idiot humans were seriously crossing the line. Now it was time for him to show them why no one would ever want to mess with Ardath.   
  
Dodging the swing, Ardath noted that the force of the missed blow left the closest Quarryman off balance and the gargoyle was quick to take advantage of this opening. Grabbing the metallic weapon, he pushed the sparkling end of it into his attacker's chest, sending the man into a brief convulsion, an electric seizure that caused the Quarryman to let go of the hammer and stagger backwards, slightly stunned. Ardath's foot swung out, connecting with this evil human's chest, and sending him flying into the sidewall of a building nearby. No, not just INTO it but actually THROUGH it. The Quarryman collapsed on the floor, unconscious, in a lovely shower of bricks, dust, and debris.  
  
Ardath, despite his immense rage, grinned toothily. One was down, but there were three still to go. Talk about fun times. If the Quarrymen had had any common sense, they would've bolted like bats out of hell.  
  
They stayed.  
  
Despite his lack of familiarity with this strange weapon, Ardath figured out quickly about how to un-charge the electric end of the hammer. As the remaining Quarrymen charged him, he pulled his arm back and threw it forward, releasing the hammer, sending the weapon flying through the air, leaving a whistling sound in its' wake as it flew. It missed two of the Quarrymen, but hit the third right between the eyes, putting one more down for the count.   
  
Realizing their moderate chances, the hooded men paused for a second, debating their next move, and Ardath folded his arms behind his head, seemingly out of boredom, and smirked. "If you two are going to kill me, better get it over with before I really get mad."  
  
That settled their minds. The two rushed in, both at once. Ardath suddenly found himself facing danger from two different directions, and leaped away, out of harm's way, over their heads, and landing behind the Quarrymen.   
  
Ardath snorted. "If nothing else, I admire your courage."  
  
They turned to face him, but way, way too slowly, giving the enraged Gargoyle enough time to grab them by the necks and smash their heads together, in a strong manner of bold aggression. When they were both out, Ardath smirked again.  
  
"Aw, come on! Is that the best you can do?!"  
  
CASTLE WYVERN, THAT NIGHT (20 MINUTES EARLIER):  
  
The sun went down, taking with it the illuminating rays of daylight. And, as the dusk faded, so too did the granite that covered the sleeping gargoyles, all of whom roared awake, sending tine fragments raining down into the streets, their eyes glowing like flashlights as they stretched tiredly. Brooklyn and Lex relaxed first, looking at each other, smiling cheekily.   
  
"So, Lex, what do you want to do tonight?"  
  
"Well, there's this cool movie with Matthew Broderick that I was wanting to catch tonight. It's called "Wargames."  
  
"Yeah? What's it about?"  
  
"Matthew accidentally fires off nuclear missiles with what he thinks is just a simple computer game. It sounds really cool. You wanna join me?"  
  
The brick red gargoyle hesitated. 'Wargames' sounded more like a movie that Lex, not himself, would enjoy.  
  
"Uh, maybe later, Lex. I'm gonna go for a glide."  
  
Lex nodded, understanding. He knew that his mate would head to Central Park or wherever Linkin Park, who was to be at the concert, was performing. They were playing somewhere this evening, but Lex wasn't entirely sure where, and he knew Brooklyn would enjoy sitting, unnoticed, in the upper corner of the stadium, his head bobbing to the music, instead of watching some old movie about nuclear missiles. "Okay, Brook, I'll see you later, then."   
  
Brooklyn smiled, kissing his mate for what was only a few seconds, but what seemed to both of them to be several hours, before he released Lex, and walked away. Lex watched after him until his love had left, then turning around and walking in the opposite direction, in the direction of the TV room.  
  
DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN, A FEW MINUTES LATER:  
  
'What a lovely night for a glide.' Brooklyn grinned as the warm night breeze swept across his skin, mussing his already messy hair into further disarray. It was wonderful warm and a far cry from the chill of winter that the gargoyle despised, which was mildly surprising, given that the heavy snowfall would soon be here, and, before long, the streets would be blanketed.  
  
Wait. Wait a second. What the hell was that?  
  
Brooklyn paused, frowning, as his eyes surveyed the scene of a massive battle that was taking place in a desolate alleyway below. A few Quarrymen were in heated battle with... something. Brooklyn could not tell what it was, due to the intensity of the fight. But then, a split-second later, Brooklyn spotted a pair of wings, firmly attached to the thing's back.  
  
The Quarrymen were attacking a gargoyle, but who was it? Brooklyn had caught enough of a glimpse of the stranger to know that it was not from his clan. Perhaps it was a rogue. Either way, getting into a tussle with four Quarrymen single-handedly was definitely not a wise move. The brick red Gargoyle swooped downwards, intent on giving this stranger a much-needed hand.  
  
Only twenty feet from the fight though, Brooklyn paused in mid-glide, stunned, as he saw this gargoyle dodge a swinging Quarryhammer. He grabbed the steel handle and used the weapon on its' owner and, after the Quarryman was done doing the chicken dance, lashed his foot and sent the human crashing through the wall of King's Hardware Store.   
  
Brooklyn was amazed. Who was this gargoyle that had almost, as much resilience and strength as Goliath? The only difference, physically, anyway, was that this male was smaller then Goliath and scrawnier. In fact, he looked more like Brooklyn, in terms of body structure, than anyone else in his clan. It was obvious that whoever he was, he needed no assistance. This gargoyle was clearly capable of handling this, with no help from anyone.  
  
Which was exactly what he was doing, taking out a second Quarryman, and then smashing the heads of Quarryman number 3 and 4 together, rendering them both unconscious. Wow. This guy was STRONG. As he swooped down, unnoticed, onto the rooftop, Brooklyn grinned despite his astonishment.  
  
"Aw, come on! Is that the best you can do?!"   
  
Brooklyn chuckled at this male's wisecrack. Unfortunately, this caught the other gargoyle's ears, and Ardeth twisted his head, searching for the source of stifled laughter, which seemed to be coming from the roof of the building that the first attacker had crashed through. Somebody was watching him. What if it was more of those hooded fools, lying in wait, springing a trap somewhere in the darkness of the surroundings?   
  
Should he go up there and find out?  
  
Brooklyn, hearing the familiar crunching sound that came with the action of scaling a building, peered over the side. The scaling had sounded like it had been coming from right beneath him. Was the gargoyle coming up onto the roof? Brooklyn knew that the other must have heard his snickering, because he had watched the male look in his direction, an unreadable expression on his face. Perhaps he had spotted Brooklyn, and had wanted to talk.   
  
But when the gargoyle peered over the side, there was nobody there. Not in the alley. Not clinging to the wall as he climbed.  
  
Brooklyn's eyes narrowed. What in the...? Where the hell had he gone?  
  
And that's when the talons slammed down roughly upon Brooklyn's shoulders, yanking him backwards. The gargoyle cried out, startled, as he fell onto his back on the dirty floor, staring up at the angry gargoyle. Despite his surprise, Brooklyn's breath caught in his throat.  
  
This male was handsome, Brooklyn admitted, with skin as dark as the night sky, copper-blonde hair framing his face, and his red wings. Brooklyn had already gotten a good look at him down in the alley obviously, but now that this gargoyle was up close, he was actually able to recognize just how great looking this male was. Not that he would hit on this gargoyle. He had already devoted his life to another. Lex would get upset if Brooklyn had hit on this male.  
  
So, instead, he asked him. "So, what's with the sneak attack?"  
  
Ardath looked down at this youth, skepticism in his mind. This was no human. He didn't look like someone who wanted to trap him and hurt him. No, this gargoyle looked interested, but not like a hunter would. This male had the fascination of an observer. Perhaps he had seen the fight and had become intrigued. In any case, Ardath had assumed wrongly that this was another enemy. "Sorry 'bout that."  
  
Then the moonlight suddenly shone down, peeking out from behind the clouds that had veiled it, allowing Ardath to get a better look at this gargoyle. Holy crap. This was he. The one. The gargoyle Ardath had been brought to this strange world in order to search for. Now he had found him.  
  
As Brooklyn stared at this stranger, trying not to, but unable to help himself, as through his gaze was held in place, the male's darkened face broke into an expression of surprise. This was the gargoyle that his voice, whoever it had belonged to, had visualized in perfect clarity in his brain, in a vision that had been as clear as day.  
  
"Brooklyn?"  
  
The red male blinked in surprise. "How did you..."  
  
"Name's Ardath. I've been looking for you."  
  
Disbelief. Skepticism. Uncertainty. Those were all the emotions Brooklyn was feeling. He had been sitting on the edge of the roof, watching Ardath, listening to his tale of Phoenix flames and odd voices from the sky. Ardath had been sent to find him? For what possible purpose? Neither gargoyle knew, but they both had a strong hunch that they would very soon find out.   
  
As soon as Ardath's story had been finished, Brooklyn got to his feet, and, opening his wings, glanced at the other. "We're gonna have to talk to Goliath about this. He may know what to do about this."  
  
"W-who's Goliath?" Ardath was a little shaken. The manner in which Brooklyn spoke and something about his personality somehow made him remember Arlon. Ardath sighed. What he wouldn't give to have his own mate back. Arlon had been both compassionate and strict towards his clan, even Ardath, and the mere thought of Arlon made the gargoyle want him back, something which he knew deep down was impossible.  
  
"In my clan, he's like god around here." Brooklyn noticed the saddened expression on his companion's face. "Hey, you okay?"  
  
Realizing that his emotions were playing all over his face, Ardath forced himself into a composed appearance and stood up. "I'm cool. Let's go."  
  
Doubt washed through Brooklyn's senses, but he brushed it aside. "Okay, then. Come on."  
  
CASTLE WYVERN, MINUTES LATER:  
  
Goliath brooded, his gaze staring off into the distance, watching for Brooklyn's arrival. Once again, his second was running late. The sun was due to rise any second now, and there wasn't even as much as a glint of shape camouflaged against the lightening early morning sky. But the clan's leader was not the only one looking for Brooklyn's return.  
  
Lex sighed, his face drooping. No Brooklyn. Not yet. No loving mate to take the usual spot beside him. There was only a blank parapet on his right side, and now it was too late. The sun was rising now, and, as the gargoyles assumed their positions, Lex's face would become fixed in a worried expression for the day as his final words before, he was being swallowed up by concrete for the next several hours, mirrored his thoughts.  
  
"Brook... where are you?"  
  
MANHATTAN, SAME TIME:  
  
Brooklyn glanced, seriously annoyed, up at the lightening sky. The sun was coming up, those bright orange rays beginning to peek out from behind the darkened clouds.  
  
"Fuck! We're not gonna make it. Let's sleep here."  
  
Ardath nodded. Brooklyn was right, Becoming lawn ornaments in mid-air would definitely be a fatal experience. "All right then. This place looks it could use some..." The building they were swooping down upon was filthy and looked to be abandoned. Maybe it was a shelter for Manhattan's homeless. "...Company." Ardath grinned. "Let's just hope the place isn't scheduled to be demolished today."  
  
Brooklyn grimaced at the mental image Ardath's comment had ignited, and then assumed his usual sleeping stance, Ardath's consisting of doubling over, rising both claws above his head fiercely, and gritting his teeth in an expression of pure anger. Brooklyn noticed this out of the corner of his eye, and snickered. "That's not a bad sleeping position."  
  
A mischievous glint appeared in Ardath's eyes. "You should've seen me when I was with my mate.."  
  
A faint blush appeared over Brooklyn's cheek, making them even redder then normal, as the sun rose.  
  
CASTLE WYVERN, LATER:  
  
The sun rose, taking with it their sleep, and the gargoyles roared, eyes glowing dangerously, stretching their rejuvenated muscles as they greeted the new night in a shower of stone. It was a brand new evening, and, since Brooklyn hadn't returned in the previous evening, everyone assumed. in the backs of their minds, that he would be back this night.   
  
Lex hoped so. He wasn't used to taking stone naps without his mate standing beside him. One night without Brooklyn had been uncomfortable. A second one would become downright disorienting.  
  
"There he is!"  
  
Broadway's shout raised Lex's spirits, and the male, excited, peered over the parapets. Sure, enough, there was a shape approaching, a gargoyle which could only be Brooklyn... but was it Lex's imagination, or was there somebody gliding alongside him? A few questions started forming in Lex's mind.  
  
He was silent as the two gargoyles, Brooklyn, as well as a strange gargoyle, swooped down onto the parapets. Brooklyn ignored his companion, who was checking out his surroundings with a sense of admiration, and focused on the most important gargoyle in his life, greeting him with a smile and a brief, chaste kiss, looking away from the small gargoyle right afterwards, and introducing Ardath to the Gargoyles.  
  
"Hey, Lex..." Brooklyn's cheerfulness dissipated when he looked back at Lexington and saw the expression on his mate's face. "...What's wrong?"  
  
"What's wrong? Nothing, aside from my wondering where you had been last night."  
  
Brooklyn scratched an itch on his left arm absently. "Well, Lex, y'know, it's not like I was impervious to the sun."   
  
"That's not what I meant."  
  
"So, what did you mean?"  
  
Lex sighed, the concern and mild irritation coming off him like radiation. Why was Brooklyn acting so clueless? "I'm talking about why you didn't come home before the sun rose last night. What, some Quarrymen attack you at the wrong time or something?"  
  
Brooklyn laughed. "No. Well, not me, anyways."  
  
"Then what happened?"  
  
Brooklyn fidgeted. This was starting to get slightly humiliating, especially with the clan pretending not to listen, and Ardath, who could hear while the two gargoyles were discussing, but also ignoring it. "Lex, could we talk someplace..." For obvious reasons, Brooklyn did not want to talk about it in front of his clan and, for some not so obvious reason, especially Ardath. "...More private?"  
  
Lex noted the hesitations in his lover's voice and frowned. Why didn't Brooklyn want to talk their problems out on the parapets, with the clan around? Granted, it wasn't the clan's business, but Goliath believed that part of working as a protective unit was that there should be no secrets kept amongst them. Most likely, he had picked that belief up after what happened with Demona the night she had made her allegiances known. But that had never stopped Brooklyn from trying to work out their personal arguments, with the assistance of the clan, before. What was so different now?  
  
Then Lex recalled Ardath, the strange gargoyle that had shown up with Brooklyn, who, the evening before, had not made his activities known. Was it really possible?  
  
Had Brooklyn cheated on him???   
  
Lexington didn't like to think so. It wasn't as though Brooklyn cheated on him. The gargoyle had not cheated EVER, and it wasn't like Lex had any reason to get jealous EVER. It wasn't like that. He loved his mate dearly, and trusted him with all of his heart.   
  
But it was still slightly odd that Brooklyn had disappeared for an entire night, and then had returned, with a male gargoyle. A male gargoyle that was now occasionally sneaking silent, meaningful glances at Brooklyn's back! Add to that the fact that Ardath's actions WERE making Lex jealous!  
  
He needed to talk to Brooklyn, and not in open public. "Okay, let's go, then."  
  
BROOKLYN AND LEX'S BEDROOM, A FEW MINUTES LATER:  
  
"So, are you in love with him?"  
  
Brooklyn was startled, how could Lex even ask him a question like that? "Lex, you're kidding me, right? I don't even know him."  
  
"But I saw the way he was looking at you, and you didn't seem to mind."  
  
"He was looking at me like that?" Brooklyn was genuinely surprised. Ardath had sneaking secret glances at him?  
  
Lex let his frown answer the question.  
  
Brooklyn places his talons on Lex's shoulders, forcing the green youth to look up at him, Lex's face wearing a disapproving frown. "Lex, I'm not interested in Ardath. Okay?" Brooklyn smiled. "Why would I trade one mate, who I love with all my heart, for another, who I barely even know? You and I are one, Lex. Now and forever."  
  
Lex smiled, pulling Brooklyn's talons off of his left shoulder, and, raising it to his lips, kissed it gently before looking at his mate. "You're right, Brook. Sorry I got so jealous."  
  
Brooklyn smiled again. "You are forgiven. Being jealous cause you thought that I cheated only proves to me how much you love me, and I meant what I said. I love YOU, and no one else. Want me to prove it to you?"  
  
Lex's grin faltered into a puzzled expression. "How?"  
  
"Guess." Brooklyn leaned down, closing his eyes as his lips touched Lex's, both gargoyles' arms reaching out to wrap around the other, both of them moaning in the back of their throats.  
  
"I rate that a 10."  
  
"Y-yeah, me too."  
  
CASTLE WYVERN, SCOTLAND, 990 A.D.:  
  
Angus wandered, his journey for a new home seeming to have no end. Where to go? How would he survive, with no clan and no family to take care of him? He had no clues about what to do, no ingenious ideas. Being exiled had been sudden, and Angus had had no time to plan his next move.   
  
It wasn't fair, the punishment that Goliath had bestowed upon him. It wasn't right that he had ignored the protests of both the young male and his three friends, the beaked one with the red skin and white hair, the small green-skinned male, and the large rotund one. They had all stuck up for him, trying to help Angus evade his fate. That ultimate humiliation of being forcibly removed from the picture, but to no avail. Goliath hadn't believed it. Hadn't cared.  
  
Angus had been cast out anyways.  
  
It hadn't even been his fault. The humans had accused him, falsely, of kidnapping their young son, Tom, when in truth, the boy had wandered off by himself in the middle of the night, while his parents, Mary and her husband, had been in their beds, snoring away their evening as they slept, not even waking up to the sound of the door shutting and not realizing what "had happened" until in the morning.   
  
It wasn't right, wasn't fair. Angus hadn't even been in the area when Tom walked out of the house, and gotten lost in the woods. Yet, the following night, upon Angus's awakening, the young male had been promptly, without the slightest hesitation, berated by an angry group of humans for "abducting a wee one from his cottage". Goliath had looked at Angus, asking the youth if the charges were true, and when Angus hadn't reacted, being too stunned to speak, the shock of this unexpected attack too great, the clan's leader had instantly etched in his mind that since he wasn't denying it, then it must be true. Once Goliath's mind was made up, there was no charging it, no matter how much Angus had claimed his innocence afterwards.  
  
Angus fumed as he walked through the lush forest, the rage building in his senses. Damn Goliath. Damn him to hell. His friends hadn't helped much, either. Sure, they had defended him, but after that first interrogation, Angus hadn't been too blinded by rage not to notice how they stopped hanging out with him, not talking to him, not even looking at him. Once the banishment had achieved confirmation, they had begun acting like it was all "Who's Angus?"   
  
It wasn't fair. He hadn't even done anything, and everyone that he loved, everyone that had cared about him and made his life good, they had all abandoned him. Stopped caring about him. Life wasn't fair. It wasn't fair, and it was no longer enjoyable anymore.   
  
Stopping in his tracks, that final thought echoing in his mind for the very first time, the rush of emotions came to Angus, causing the youth to drop onto his knees on the ground, sadness and loneliness coming to the surface, flooding his senses.  
  
For the very first time ever since the banishment, Angus cried.  
  
His tears were short-lived, however.  
  
'Be upset not, young one.'  
  
Through his tears, blinking against the mistiness of his eyes, Angus frowned. Who the hell was that?!   
  
"Uh... hello?"  
  
No answer. There only seemed to be silence.   
  
"Somebody there?"  
  
'Yes.'  
  
Angus jumped. The voice had seemed to be coming from right in front of him. The only problem was, there wasn't anybody there! Could it be... was it possible... that he was talking to a specter? Some poor soul, restless and unable to crossover to the other side until some business had been finished?   
  
'I am no ghost, Angus of Clan Wyvern."  
  
The gargoyle was stunned. "H-how do you know who I am?" Angus nearly jumped out of his skin as a robed figure suddenly appeared in front of him, reclining on a large boulder, staring at him intently, from out of nowhere. He, or she, or whatever, (Angus could not tell due to the robe) almost seemed to be a mirage. The gargoyle knew it was not, however.  
  
'I see all, and know all, young one. Especially when one's destiny is directly intertwined with his clan's involvement with the Phoenix Gate.'  
  
Angus frowned. "The Phoenix what?!" No answer. "Who are you?"  
  
"I am Niko, guardian of the Gate, and I have come to guide you on your path. To give you your purpose. There is a great plan for you, young one, and I have arrived to set your fate in its' inevitable motion.'  
  
"My fate?"  
  
'Yes. Be here this same time upon the morrow.' The monk started to fade away again, but how the young gargoyle had no idea. 'I shall see thee on the sundown.'  
  
Angus blinked as Niko vanished, leaving only a fog-like mist in his absence, which quickly dissipated and disintegrated in the air, then realized that he was holding something in his hand. An object that had literally appeared out of thin air.  
  
It was crest-shaped, and made completely out of some kind of metal. The Phoenix Gate.  
  
'Think of a place in time, young one, and it shall you there.' Niko's voice invaded Angus' thoughts one last time.  
  
For now...  
  
DESTINE MANOR (2003):   
  
Even with the moonlight shining through the slits of her window shade, basking the bedroom in its' yellowish glow, the red-haired female lie in her bed, fast asleep, not at all bothered by the insomnia-inducing glare of the bright light.   
  
Yes, she was asleep, but dreaming, and not a pleasant one, and her sleep was not an easy one.  
  
Beneath the satin covers, the woman rolled in various positions, her eyes clenched shut tightly, as though trying to block off the images of what she was seeing. Endure the agony of what she was hearing.   
  
Being that it was in her dream, however, she would not and could not be rid of it. Not in her sleeping state. The nightmare was too vivid, too lifelike, that it actually made the poor soul panic, more and more with each passing second.  
  
She stood there before it, the dark shadows of the castle stretching towards her, the eerie quietness of the abandoned vicinity haunting her deep to her dark, twisted soul. There was no life here, she knew, and she knew because there was no sound, no flash of movement. There was only air, and the aura of death that accompanied it. Shivering suddenly beneath the chill that had unexpectedly arose from nowhere, she took a step before. Then another, and one more.  
  
Before the gargoyle knew it, she was back in the battlements, staring in horror at the carnage that was to be her fate, her responsibility. The shattered stone limbs of her brothers and sisters. Limbs that had been shattered off of their bodies. Her entire world was reeked of doom, and the air was chill with the souls of her dead companions. They were all before her, glaring at her with the hatred of a thousand hell-spawned demons, blaming their fates upon her. And it WAS her fault, she knew. She had made that bargain with the captain. Had sold out her clan in an attempt for what she had thought was the greater good.  
  
But now there was only the gloom of death, and the silent accusations of her dead rookery brothers and sisters. The demon wept. She wept for their ultimate demise, and for her part in it.   
  
Then he was there. An odd, robed monk. His face was hidden beneath the folds of gray hood, and he was raising his left hand towards her. Pointing at her. Demona only stared at him, not at all in the know of who this stranger was, or what he wanted with her. There should be no one here at all. Only her, grieving her mistake, and the gargoyle had wanted it that way.   
  
But that didn't stop her from continuing to point at her, that unwavering index finger aimed at her direction. Knowing not what else to do, she decided to try speaking to him. Clearing her throat loudly, and wiping her tears off with the back of her hand, she opened her mouth and said the first thing that arose in her mind.  
  
"Who are you?"  
  
If the monk spoke out loud, she saw no movement.  
  
'You must know your future.'  
  
The demon gasped loudly, as unknown images, from an unwritten chapter somewhere in the book known as "SPACE AND TIME" rushed through her subconscious. She saw several different figures, most of which were gargoyles. Her mate Goliath, the young red-skinned male with the beak, the small green one, the rotund Aqua, her former mentor with the scar over his left eye, and the canine-like one. Could it really be? Had they all somehow survived this disaster, and could, or would, they return to her at some point down the line? It would be so very wonderful if they did so.   
  
Then came the unfamiliar images. The arrogant man with the facial hair, and a ponytail behind his head. The stiff-mannered blonde man who Demona somehow sensed was close to this other. A red-haired human woman carrying an infant human male. Who were these people? This was madness. It must be a sorcerer's trickery.  
  
'This is no trickery. No illusion. It is real.'  
  
The images faded, and Demona sighed. It was over, right?  
  
'And this is what you will be.'  
  
The she-goyle nearly screamed in fear and panic, as the flashes of what lie in wait for her destiny played before her eyes. She saw... herself, killing and maiming various characters over the years. Attacking humans with differing weaponry. Spilling blood. And, even worse, ENJOYING it. Laughing over it. Relishing the infliction of the pain - HER pain - upon others who surely did not deserve such brutality.   
  
"Please, please, I beg of you. No more, please."  
  
'This one will change everything.'  
  
It was a gargoyle, a dark-skinned male, with hair the color of the sun, and blood-colored wings. He was strong looking, but not huge, and he was very handsome. Despite the horror that she had felt, Demona's panic was calmed when she looked at him. There was something about that one that was... wonderful. Something that brought peace to her weeping soul.  
  
'And, someday, gargoyle, he will also bring peace to your very being, as well. There will be a time when you will be needed for good. You will have a opportunity to achieve redemption, and he will be the road you must travel to succeed. Do not ignore him."  
  
And, then, before Demona could say anything else, the odd figure was gone, vanished into thin air, leaving her alone with only the mangled remains of her clan for company.  
  
Dominique snapped awake in her bed, panting, stunned beyond belief. That dream...  
  
Or had it been a dream?  
  
MANHATTAN, THE FOLLOWING EVENING:  
  
Ardath stared out at the city before him, those skyscrapers reaching as far away from him, and the castle, as far as his eye could see. It was really very beautiful to look at. The mere beauty of Manhattan was astonishing. In all his life, Ardath had not seen a location that was lovelier. Despite his intrigue, the gargoyle snickered. What would Arlon have said to him if he had been here? What sarcastic remark would his maet have made? Probably something along the lines of "Aww, you catching flies?"  
  
Chuckling at the thought of it, the gargoyle drew his left knee up, resting his forearm on it, the bright lights and loud noises of the city beneath bringing a smile to his face. Despite its' obvious problems, particularly those humans which Brooklyn had called "Quarrymen", Manhattan could be very beautiful.  
  
Those Quarrymen. Brooklyn had explained to him about them on their way back to the castle. They were a group of Gargoyle haters that had formed under the tutelage of an angry human man named John Castaway AKA Jon Canmore. Canmore/Castaway had injured his brother Jason during a fierce battle against the clan, and, in his rising madness, had blamed the gargoyles for Jason's permanent paralysis rather then take the responsibility himself. Not long after, these Quarrymen, which Brooklyn had only half-jokingly referred to as the "KKK of Central America" had begun hunting them all down, with the aid of those damned electric hammers at their disposal. Absolutely relentless in their goals, their hatred being their driving factor in their hopeless mission.  
  
It was hopeless because of Demona. Brooklyn had also told Ardath about her, had shared with him everything that she had done. Starting with the Wyvern Massacre 1,009 years ago and its' aftermath here in Manhattan 9 years ago. Then moving into the incident at the Cloisters. The stuff with Coldstone. Titania's mirror. Her short-lived allegiance and, much later, brief marriage with Macbeth. Her actions on Avalon while being under the Weird Sisters' spell. Those times with Thailog in Paris and, later, creating the clones of them all. The Praying Gargoyle. Hunter's Moon. The stealth hunter.  
  
The immortality, which is what would make the Quarrymens' plans really pointless, if they ever chose to strike against her, and for which there were very good odds of happening, given Castaway's mentality.   
  
During their conversation, Ardath had figured out something for himself. The strange woman who had spoken to him earlier, that odd human who had expressed interest while all the others had shown indifference, she had given him a card with Dominque Destine's name etched upon it. Brooklyn had told him that "Diminique Destine" was Demona's assumed human name. Her alias.   
  
He had come face to face with Demona herself.   
  
If he'd known that earlier, he could've done something. He should've anyway. No humans had ever shown any fascination in him that did not have a sinister scheme behind it. Odds were that this "Miss Destine" was the same way, even if she was a gargoyle in human's clothing.  
  
Knowing this fact only left two questions running through the coal-skinned gargoyle's mind: what was it that Demona had had in mind for him and, just as importantly, if not more, what part would he have played in it?  
  
So many troubling questions. So few answers.  
  
NIGHTSTONE UNLIMITED, THREE MINUTES BEFORE DAWN:  
  
She stared out the window patiently, her eyes focusing, intently, on the sky in the background that was turning crimson. It really was very beautiful, and reminded her of a painting she had seen once, at the museum the night she had taken Titania's mirror.   
  
But, unfortunately, this woman was not watching the sunset to admire its' great beauty.  
  
Time's up.   
  
Dominique screamed, her pained wails vibrating throughout the narrow confines of the hidden room behind her office. Thank god that she had had her employees clear out for the remainder of the night. Frantic shouts and worried questions about her health were the last Dominique had needed to worry about. Especially as her skin turned the color of the sky on a cloudless day, and her feet enlarged, changing shape.   
  
A few seconds later, any and all traces of "Dominique Destine" was not to be found, and Demona was panting loudly, attempting to catch her breath. These nightly transformations, while they were never easy, had been taking a lot out of her lately.  
  
'Gotta remember to switch my diet.'  
  
For some reason, that struck her as funny, and the female gargoyle threw her head back, laughing uncontrollably.  
  
CASTLE WYVERN, SAME TIME.  
  
The clan awoke as they always did, with large roars and the usual stone shower in the streets below that usually accompanied it. Brooklyn was the first to speak, as he looked at his mate, genuine mischief in his eyes. Ardath had been perched next to Goliath and was hopping down off his perch when he heard Brooklyn ask Lex something.  
  
"So what do you wanna do tonight?"  
  
"I don't know. You?"  
  
Brooklyn smiled evilly. "We could go for a glide, or we could go watch TV, or..." His voice dropped off, and Lex had a feeling he know what that second "or" was an indication of, especially when that sly smile curved across his lover's face.  
  
Lex shoved him playfully. "Gutter mind."  
  
Brooklyn only laughed. "Takes one to know one."  
  
"Let's go, then."  
  
"Okay." They walked away down the hall, in the direction of their room for a night of intense, passionate, activity. But they were interrupted, however.  
  
Hearing a large WHOOSH sound, both gargoyles turned, as one, just in time to see a large flame descend onto the floor of the room, and quickly vanish away, leaving a familiar sight behind. The gargoyle was of medium height, only slightly shorter then Brooklyn, with skin that could be compared to the color of the sky, and brown hair. His wings were also brown, and he was dressed in a light gray loincloth, and jet black pants. He was holding the Phoenix Gate.  
  
As the figure's eyes focused on them through the lengthy brown hair, he smiled. Not a warm, loving expression, but a cold, twisted glare of hatred and fury that made Brooklyn's hair stand up on the back of his neck. This was clearly no friend.   
  
A thought that was made even more obvious when the gargoyle raised a gun and shot at them. Brook and Lex dived out of the way of the bullet, but Brook lost his footing, and being completely off-balanced, collapsed onto his butt on the floor. Lex had slipped and hit his head on the nearby table, and was now lying there, unconscious.   
  
Brook had no time to worry over his mate, though, before the chamber of the gun was poked into his neck roughly, the gargoyle sneering as he kept his finger on the trigger, a cold, sadistic smile forming.   
  
"Miss me?"  
  
To Be Continued in Alternate Lives 3, coming soon to a fanfiction site near you.  
  
Responses? Praise? Criticisms? Flames? Send 'em. kingcobra582hotmail.com.  
  
Later! 


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